Mischief's Match
by TARDISdaughter
Summary: After a wild fire Erin is left without a home or parents (again). She is immediately sent to her adoptive mother's brother John Watson Meanwhile Social Services tries to find her a real home, but has she found the place where she belongs? Nope! (according to her)
1. New Homes

**A plot bunny attacked me, and tied me to my computer until I wrote this. **

**I Own Nothing!**

I walked up the steps to flat 221B on Baker St. I know what I am doing here. The forest fire had reached my house and my mums were gone, I didn't cry. It was a strange feeling, a hole had been blown into my chest and I couldn't. Nothing was left but my mother's ring. I am here now because Dr. John Watson is the only family I've got left. I knocked four times and the door opened.  
"Hello dear. How can I help you?" said an old lady at the door.  
"I'm here to see John Watson."  
"Wait there a tick." it took a total of five minutes for her to return  
"Follow me" she said finally. I walked behind her into a dim lit room and up thirteen steps into a messy room. There were papers everywhere, from news papers to book pages.  
"Take a seat, give me your case and if I like it I'll take it." said a man. He had high cheek bones, and dark curly hair  
"Who are you?" I asked  
"I'm Sherlock Holmes, why would you come in here for a case if you didn't know who I am. Unless you haven't come here for a case and are looking for something else." I saw his eyes flitter around trying to assess me. _'Intelligence'_ I thought.  
"I was sent here because Uncle John is the only family I have left."  
"How is he the only one left?"  
"I'll tell you when John gets here"  
"John! Come here!" Sherlock called  
"What is... Oh no. Why are you here?" he asked me  
"Mum is gone"  
"What do you mean gone!"  
"Fire" I told him solemnly  
"So what I gather is that Harriet and her family all burned to death in a wildfire leaving only you her adoptive daughter, judging by your lack of resemblance. Am I missing anything?"  
"Could you be any more insensitive?"John asked  
"Did I miss anything?" Holmes said again, more forcefully  
"Yes" I said smugly, _as if_ I didn't know who he was  
"She is your doppelgänger" John sighed  
"So she is good at deducing"  
"Yes" I told them  
"For example based on your posture you have a brother, but he is older than you. The confident stance you take is mixed with arrogance and was learned. The stink eye you're giving me just tells me you don't like him at all. You exercise moderately. Your head tilts left when you sleep, and you sleep on the right side of the bed."  
"How would you know those last things?"  
"Your bed is beside the door on the left side when you walk in so to rise quickly you would have to be close to the door. Also it's more convenient. Your hair is more messed up on the left than the right and you wouldn't have time to brush your hair yet especially since you are still in your jim-jams. Old jim-jams." I provided  
"Interesting" Holmes had a giant grin plastered on his face  
"I think we'll get along just fine"  
"I think you will want to send me somewhere far away from you by the end of the week" I said with a smirk  
"Anyway! Erin, where's your stuff?"  
"Ash" I told him  
"Which means you need to go shopping"

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHATSTUPI DHAT**

**How did I do? I LOVE constructive ****criticism. Please Review. I posted this on impulse.**


	2. Nightmares

**I own Nothing**

**Enjoy:**

I had just walked through the door with Erin trailing behind me. To see Mycroft and Sherlock locked in what some would call an 'epic stare down'

"No, I will not be taking your double homicide case." said Sherlock after a few moments of silence.

"Yes you will." said the voice from behind me

"What makes you so sure?" Sherlock asked

"A two-year old can spot the glee in your eyes, your hands are fidgeting but this is your home turf so it is not nervousness but excitement, and given my earlier deduction that you don't like your brother it is only logical to assume you are waiting until he is almost begging for you to accept the case." Erin explained

"How did you know they were brothers?" I asked her

"Despite the gaps in age and weight they are very similar. Their head shape, nose, eye proportions, and eyebrows are enough evidence." She said.

"Well then I should mention that you went to a total of three stores, before going to lunch. You bought one pair of shoes, eight shirts, and five pairs of jeans. Also that you have had nightmares recently judging from dark circles under your eyes probably of fire burning down everyone you love."

"Sherlock that's enough."

"Wrong."

"Excuse me?" the detective asked

"I said wrong. We went to four stores, I bought two pairs of shoes trainers, and boots. I bought seven shirts, one dress, four pairs of jeans, and a phone. As for the stain on my shirt, that is not sauce it is coffee. I take a medicine for ADHD, one of the side effects is a difficulty entering REM sleep and my access to Melatonin (brain chemical that is released during sleep) is limited." she simply stood smirking as silence filled the room. I was dumbstruck, my almost niece just corrected the world's only consulting detective. The silence continued before a light snickering could be heard coming from Mycroft.

"What?"

"Nothing." Mycroft's snickering turned into chuckling.

"Am I not allowed to be wrong, Mycroft?"

"You were just made a fool by a girl who is less than half your age."

"By the way Mr. Mycroft, hows the diet going?" now it was Sherlock's turn to laugh and I laughed with him

"Will you ever act your age." Mycroft said

"Like I said before, we solve crimes, I blog about it, and he leaves his flat without any pants."

"And I _am _acting my age" said Erin with a grin

"I'm leaving this flat of mad men"

"-and girl."

"Sherlock call me if you accept the case."

"He texts."

"I wasn't talking to you!"

"I know."

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHATWITHWINGSSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHAT**

I never knew why but I always have found joy in annoying others. Over the years I have gotten pretty good at it. I can now make people go into a full-out rage but do so just right so they don't cry. The annoyed faces usually leave me laughing on the floor, the strange looks given when I do fall keep me there. This is exactly what happened when Mycroft left the flat.  
"Well that was pleasant!" I said cheerily, skipping off with my bags out the door and to my new room upstairs.

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHAT**

That night I couldn't sleep. All the nightmares of my biological father, the orphanage, and before I was adopted kept returning. I still remember clear as day, on my 8th birthday, when he huddled my 3 little brothers and I into the car. _We_ were _driving for hours before Da stopped in front of a large house. Seamus (5) and Daniel (3) slid out before I did holding Liam (1) in my arms. We followed Da into the house where the children were pale and skinny. At the desk he talked to the woman that he was leaving us in her care before signing a paper.  
'See if anyone wants your now' he whispered before leaving forever. _My dream skipped ahead two years later. _Liam had just picked up the violin and was a natural like his siblings. Daniel was already playing some of the most advances pieces and was learning the guitar like Seamus. Seamus himself played the guitar after already mastering the Violin. I was teaching him the drums at the moment. I had already mastered the violin, guitar, flute, and drums. I was the one teaching my brothers to stay in harmony even when we were far away from each other. The orphanage was cruel and the only nice thing was that shortly after we arrived an anonymous donation of instruments came in. All of that mattered, we were leaving Limerick and we needed some way of making money. That night we slipped out into the night with our instruments on our backs. It took over a week for us to reach Dublin. We walked out into the middle of the town square to set up. There we began to play. By the time the song ended we had drawn a small crowd. _The dream skipped again to when we were back in the orphanage_ We had made it as far as Manchester in six months before we were caught and sent to another orphanage. This one was like heaven compared to the last one. Our days continued with plotting our escape until a woman came in. She was so kind to me and was looking to adopt. All the papers were filled out. The day she came back to pick me up was when I learned that A) she was an alcoholic and B) she was only adopting me. She came to take me home while she was half drunk. As I said goodbye we promised that we would find each other again._ A light filled my vision and I realized it was morning. I touched my face to find that a tear was slowly making its way down my cheek. My brothers never did find me, nor I them. I cried silently for the promise I had broken.

**Please tell me how I did. **

**If you haven't guessed already Erin is Irish, an older sister, and can confuse Sherlock's deductions. She was also adopted so technically not John's ****niece, a fabulous musician, and was forced to learn to deduce when she lived on the streets. (***SPOILER***her brothers can too***SPOILER***)**


	3. A Case

**I own nothing:**

I woke up in a cold sweat. Yesterday I had been putting these thoughts off, and now the dam had broken. When I first learned about the death of Harry I guess my military training kicked in. Now I realized. Harry and her wife are dead, I would never see my sister again. There wasn't even a body to be buried because all that was left was...ash. My head began spinning. The girl in the next room is the last thing I had left of my sister. I listened through the walls, trying to hear her breathing, trying to process the fact that she is still here. Thats when I heard sobbing. Every adult knows there are two types of crying. There is the loud cry which means the child needs attention, and there is the silent cry. That triggered the parental reflex, the silent cry means something's wrong, something is very, very wrong.'_Well of course she is crying, she just lost her mums'_ I silently wondered about what her life was like before walking to her room. That's when I heard a lullaby drifting out

_"Sleep small baby  
Rest your head  
The day is done  
and it's time for bed"_

_"Dream of meadows  
butterflies  
million flowers  
bright blue skies"_

I didn't know how one small song could hold so much emotion. It broke my heart, all the memories of lost friends filled my head. Tears came out as they filled my head. Those feelings I had locked up so tightly simply poured out as I slid to the floor.

"Uncle John?" I heard Erin ask

"Hmm?" I asked

"Are you okay?"

"Are you?"

"Just fine" she told me with a grin. I saw her shields go up and her feelings buried away until she was alone.

We walked to the kitchen in a comforting silence.

"So you hungry?"

"You can cook?" I asked in disbelief

"Yes I can cook" she said in an almost perfect imitation of me

"Nice." said a voice from the doorway

"What else can you do?" Sherlock inquired.

"Nothing much. How's your neck" she replied looking slightly smug

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHATWITHWINGSSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHAT**

This girl was clever. She observed everything she saw, I would be impressed if not for the fact that she humiliated me in front of Mycroft. Her analyzing seemed to be different than mine. Erin could see the same crime scene I would and arrive at the same conclusion but in a different way. There was a problem though. Buried deep in her eyes was a flicker of sentiment and that just wouldn't do.

"So now what?" she asked John when they had finished

"Now I go to work and Sherlock waits for a case."

"Anything fun to do around here?"

"There's crap telly and books."

"Great" she said sarcastically

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHATWITHWINGSSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHAT**

It was 11:00AM and I was bored as hell. There was nothing to do and my brain was processing but there was nothing _to_ process. The detective on the couch wasn't much better. Already he was shooting the wall and I was ready to practice my marksmanship with him if I didn't do something soon. Then the doorbell rang and I heard Sherlock run to the door.

"Lestrade. What are you doing here?" I heard through the walls

"There's been a murder. One of the homeless was found dead in an alley."

"Why are you coming to me?"

"The victim had no friends, no family, and no rivals yet there are stab wounds in his chest."

"Murder weapon?"

"None"

I walked out of my room and silently crept downstairs while they talked. Lestrade saw me.

"Hello there." then turning to Sherlock "I never took you for someone with kids"

"She's John's niece"

"Oh it's nice to meet you" My underfed brain saw everything about him.

"You're having wife issues, you work for Scotland Yard, and you use nicotine patches. You are also on an important case that is difficult to solve."

"How did you..?"

"Tan line on your finger, badge in your pocket, slight bandaid looking object on your forearm, and pastry crumbs on your collar, and you are here." I told him quickly.

"Sherlock, what have you done? She's exactly like you"

"I've done nothing." He said with a smirk

"Can I come to the crime scene too?"

"Why wold you want to come?"

"Bored" I shrugged but on the inside I was freaking out. This was a street performer, he could be Seamus, Daniel, or Liam.

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHATWITHWINGSSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHAT**

On the way to the crime scene Sherlock stopped and gave a ten pound note to a homeless person.

"Since when do you help the poor?"

"My homeless network, they are my eyes and ears all over the city."

"Makes sense." mere minutes later we arrived. I recognized the body almost instantly. It was Umbra. He played in the square on a regular basis, when I met him he was my age and played the recorder beautifully. We called him shadow because he could go anywhere and come out without ever being seen. We got to know him quite well in our London days.

"He is a simple homeless person killed for his day's earnings"

"Anderson, shut up and don't speak"

"Well, he's a performer not just homeless." Sherlock looked at me

"The fully intact recorder between the bags of trash that's at the same angle as his hand?" He nodded in understanding

"And who are you?"

"I'm Erin,I'd say nice to meet you but I don't lie."

"Erin, see what you can find out from the body." Sherlock said to me

I walked over and analyzed the body.

"He was a street performer like I said earlier. Even if you find his friends thy won't talk. He put up a hell of a fight, if this murder was't for his territory it was done by the Clef."

"Territory?"

"Street performers here and in other big cities have a system. Each person gets a small territory that people walk through. Everyone in your territory hears only your music and therefore only gives you coins. If someone is playing in your territory the amount of people who come to give _you_ spare change decreases significantly. His territory was outside a café, that's really good, anyone who walks out notices his music first."

"So what you're saying is that someone killed him because they wanted to play in his area?" Lestrade asked

"Maybe. There is also the Clef."

"What's that?"Sherlock asked looking genuinely curious

"It's more or less a gang. Under them you get the best territories but all the money you earn goes to their leader who divides it among everyone."

"So a mini dictator."

"Yes, and if you don't give all your earnings your are killed."

"Nice job. Is there anyway to tell?" Sherlock asked

"I was getting to that. Anderson, there is a recorder between the trash bags, bring it here."

"You can't talk to me like that!" I looked at Lestrade

"Anderson just do it." On the instrument I found what I was looking for, a treble clef on the mouthpiece.

"It _was_ the Clef"

**I hope you liked it. Next chapter we meet her brothers. Please review for more chapters.**


	4. Unusual Source of Help

**I own nothing**

**Enjoy:**

I passed the performers and was shocked at how young they were. Their music sounded like they were calling out and trying to be found. I made a mental note to contact them later in the day. As I walked inside I heard a soft humming. 'Erin' ? What was peculiar was that her humming was in perfect unison with the song the boys outside were playing. Taking note of this I decided to wait until nightfall before contacting them.

As they left I grabbed the smallest by the back of the collar.

"Wet me go!" he said in a baby's slur. This shout alerted the older two. Who ran quickly away

"I guess they left you. Not very nice, are they?"

"They'w coming to get you mistow you betta wun if you don't want them to find you."

"All I want to do is ask you a few questions" I felt a blunt force hit the back of my head before I saw red.

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHATWITHWINGSSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHAT**

I woke up tied to an uncomfortable chair in a foul smelling place.

"Hello?" I called out then a shape dropped in front of me. It was the elder of the three.

"So, why did you grab my little brother?" said an Irish voice

"I wanted to talk to you and he was the closest"  
"Well, you certainly have my attention now. So what is it you want?"

"There is a gang by the name of Clef. I need to know more about it."

"Why involve yourself with them? They are exceedingly dangerous"

"Bored" I told them

"Don't we know the feeling?" said a voice to my left

"It's a lovely offer but we must decline. Our search for someone must continue."

"You do realize sentiment is a weakness found on the loosing side?"

"Sentiment, Mr. Holmes is the only reason I am alive. If it were not for sentiment all four of us would be dead."

"You said four but there are only three of you. Where is the fourth? Wait, don't tell me it is the one you are looking for"

"We can't tell you about Er.."

"Liam, hush!" said the voice at my left

"Daniel, what have I told you about revealing names?"

"Sorry Seamus."

"Agh, now you've done it! He knows our names now"

"You told him my name!"

"I did do that."

"Anyways!" I shouted

"If you do this for me I will help you find your fourth member"

"That's not possible. We have searched five years for our sister and have yet to find her."

"Maybe, but you never had a consulting detective or Scotland Yard helping."

"Huddle!" Seamus called to his brothers. no matter how hard I tried I could not

hear them

"Deal. We will give you information about the Clef and you will help us find our sister Iner." I felt another blunt force at the base of my skull before waking up outside of 221B Baker St.

"Sherlock. You're back, what took you so long?" Erin asked

"I think life just got a bit more interesting." I told her

**So close. Sherlock got to meet Erin's little brothers without her. Believe me when I tell you they can get so much worse. They are just as bad as Erin, if not worse. **

**I live off of reviews (especially constructive criticism) **


	5. Discoveries

**Sorry for the long wait. Hope it was worth it.**

**Disclaimer:I own nothing**

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHATWITHWINGSSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHAT  
(Erin) next morning**

I felt it. Ever since I had been separated from my brothers an urge to make some sort of music would arise in the pit of my soul. Every time I made some sort of music it felt like I was calling out to them. _'That's moronic Erin, get a grip.'_ My logical side scolded my inner romantic. _'Well do you have any idea how else to find them?'_ The romantic retorted. Finally logic gave in like it always did and I hummed as I made breakfast. The tapping of spoons was the beat and the kitchen became my instrument. The song ended when I sat down to eat.  
"Interesting song." Said a voice from the door. I turned to see John with a grin plastered on his face  
"Thank you. I made some extra there on the stove." I said pointing to the pan of scrambled eggs.  
"Where did you learn to do that?"  
"There aren't many ways to express yourself in an orphanage. Music is simple, you can hum, tap, sing…" I trailed off making my point.  
"So I went so the school yesterday, and they said they would be delighted to have you next year."  
"Really?" I said with mock enthusiasm  
"Well, don't get excited or anything."  
"Sorry, that sounds great." I said as he finally took the last bite  
"I've got to go to work, be good while I'm gone." He took his plate to the sink and walked out the door.  
Hours had passed, Sherlock had left and I had run out of things to occupy my short attention span. Then I saw the most beautiful thing in the world. A polished oak violin rested in the corner, and by the amount of dust it hadn't been used in weeks. I picked it up reverently and drew it's bow across the strings like I had so long ago. It took a minute before I began to play Lord of the Dance. With every note my confidence grew and I became complete. I heard the door open and I stopped.  
"Interesting." Sherlock murmured as he and and John came into the flat. I quickly but gently set the violin and bow down.  
"What is?" I asked  
"Nothing." He said dismissively  
"Where did you learn to play?" John asked me  
"I taught myself."  
"You were holding it wrong." Sherlock said  
"What?" John asked turning  
"Not you. The violin is supposed to rest between your shoulder and chin." He came over and picked up his violin. "This black part isn't for decoration. It's to rest your chin on." After demonstrating he handed it to me with the bow.  
"Now blade the bow on the strings." I did as he asked  
"Good. Keep your elbow at a ninety degree angle." He said adjusting my arm.  
"Now play." The day continued with him criticizing my dynamics and teaching me proper form. No one had ever done this for me, I finally had a teacher.

**STUPIDHATSTUPIDHATWITHWINGSSTUPIDHATSTUPIDHAT**

John and I were coming back from Bart's after examining the body. Outside I heard the beginning ofLord of the Dance playing. John opened the door to 221B, as we walked in I heard the most curious thing. The same song was playing in the flat. What I found even more interesting was that inside the song wasn't in a different place, but was an exact continuation of the song outside. My brain went into rapid fire. _Who is playing?_ I looked at the coat rack. _Only two people are in this building Mrs. Hudson and Erin, Mrs. Hudson can't play, Erin is the violinist_. _How is she playing the exact continuation of the song? _That was the real question. _Both doors are sound proof. She could have excellent hearing. No. _I remembered the volume of her iPod. All my pondering took place as John and I walked up the stairs and into the flat. As I predicted Erin was playing my violin. She stopped suddenly, I could see the amount of care she used to set down my violin and bow.  
"Interesting." This was not the first time she played. The rise and fall of sound indicated that she knew what she was doing. I normally would have been angry that some one was touching my instrument but the way she cared for the violin showed her reverence toward music.  
"I taught myself." That seemed to be the truth. She had a total lack of dynamics.  
"Your doing it wrong." I went over and explained how to hold it. As she tried I fixed her form. The song she played sounded nervous at first, but as it continued it became more relaxed. I was shocked, and willing to bet her music would transition smoothly into something quite jovial when she was feeling happy.

**Once again, I hope it was worth the wait. Please review, I LOVE constructed criticism.**

** If I don't know what I am doing wrong I can't fix it.**

**Thanks for reading.**


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